Little Ficlets
by Princess Sammi
Summary: A set of little fics inspired from situations in WW, Random prompts and conversations I've had with certain people :D.
1. It Might Be Mice

**A/N: This was originally to be an A-Z series, but thought-or rather knew- I would run into some difficulty when I hit the trickier letters so just decided to use the same ideas and change the title :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Worst Witch**

* * *

**Little Ficlets  
**

**Chapter 1: It Might Be Mice  
**

"So how are the plans for the Christmas pantomime extravaganza going then Lavinia?" Amelia Cackle asked as she poured the morning tea in the staff room.

"Oh very well Miss Cackle", the chanting teacher gushed, "its all well under way; the script has been written by the girls themselves, and auditions will be held next week"

An exasperated sigh came from the end of the table.

"Something the matter Constance?" Lavinia queried.

"I'll say, its bad enough the girls will be missing their potions class for the audition", here she almost spat the word, "but afterwards and when its all _under way_" she mockingly said, "they'll be hyper young witches and will be unteachable and we still have a vast amount of work to get through".

"It all sounds rather exciting I must say, and it will be a great way to lift the girls spirits and bring some festive joy" Imogen Drill chimed in.

"Hmm" Constance replied merely raising an eyebrow. "Well I for one will not be having anything to do with this ridiculous farce!"

The room suddenly went very quiet and Imogen Drill picked up the hot tea pot hoping it would offer some protection from the soon to be seething witch in front of her, whilst Amelia slowly slid her cheesecake up the table fearful of what may happen to it if it got in the way as she didn't fancy eating cheesecake that had been blown to smithereens, if she had, then she would have made it herself.

"There's something going on here" Constance said, breaking the silence.

"Well you see Constance, it's just that we need a fairy godmother and we were thinking that you would …." Lavinia trailed off under the intensity of the glare she was getting from Constance. If looks could kill then this one would have killed you, brought you back to clean up the mess and then killed you all over again.

Constance got up from the table and made her way to the door "now lets just make one thing crystal clear, there is absolutely no way I'm playing the fairy godmother in this upcoming spectacle", she opened the door and flounced out, slamming it shut behind her.

"For someone who seems to be so against theatre she is certainly some Drama Queen" Imogen muttered.

"Well that went, Lavinia began – as well as could be expected" finished off Miss Cackle.

The three nodded in agreement.

"Don't worry, she'll come round ", Amelia picked up her tea cup and took a sip, in time"

The other two looked at her incredulously it was as if she had just suggested that pigs could fly, or that the strict potions mistress of an academy would agree to play a fairy in the school panto.

"I'm not sure Miss Cackle, either she won't or …. well put it this way, we won't have to find any mice to use as _we'll_ be the mice" Lavinia said, a little scared.

"Being a mouse wouldn't be all bad", Miss Cackle mused, "think of all the cheese I could eat".

Miss Drill cupped her face in her palm and shook her head. Only Amelia could find the silver lining about being turned into a mouse.


	2. Its A Bar For Crows

**A/N: Firstly , I have no idea about any aspect of any tools used to fix stuff. If I break something I go 'opps' 'it wasn't me, it was an accident' and then Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad. **

**Secondly, this may not even make any sense and is definitely on the random side but meh …. **

**Thirdly, Aspects of this chapter are a standing joke between me and The Half Cast Mourne Posh Girl so this is for her. :D **

* * *

**Chapter 2: It's A Bar For Crows  
**

Frank Blossom, the school caretaker was mending the stationery cupboard in the Staffroom of the Academy, and had somehow ended up with Davina Bat for assistance, and whilst the eccentric chanting teacher was lovely; she wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but having insisted that she wasn't leaving him with her cupboard unsupervised - as she had a fresh supply of roses hidden in there for lunch later on that day and wanted to keep a close eye on them - he didn't see that he had much of a choice.

"All right now, I think we'll need to take this bit off", he said pointing to a piece. Davina nodded earnestly as if she knew exactly what he was talking about, truth was she didn't have a clue; 'maybe if he said it in Mongolian she might understand it better' she mused, she watched him as he dug through his tool box in search of his essential piece of equipment but couldn't seem to find it "Hmm that's odd" he said, thinking out loud.

"Something the matter Mr Blossom?" she asked, adjusting the baton behind her ear with such an enthusiastic force it nearly took his eye out.

"Its just I seem to have misplaced my crow bar", "can't think where I could have left it", he scratched his head in puzzlement.

"Say no more, Mr Blossom", she said with a knowing look in her eye", I'll be back" and before he could even say anything she had shot off.

Sometime later she still hadn't returned so he set off to look for her, and as he passed by the arched window he could see a familiar silhouette up in the air balancing on a broomstick, one hand reaching out to pick up the crow sitting on one of the roof turrets.

Just as she had grabbed the crow it flew from her reach and before she knew it the broom had toppled over and she plummeted to the ground.

Mr Blossom immediately rushed out to the older woman's aid

"Miss Bat, are you alright, what on earth were you doing?"

"I was getting the crow for the crow bar" she replied a little dazed but in a matter of fact sort of tone.

"I see … and er … what do you think a crow bar is"

"Oh that's obvious", she said standing up with a big smile on her face, "it's a bar where all the crows like to meet and they have a lovely time; they sing some songs, do some dancing, and on special occasions they may even have a small whisky" at this point she winked and nudged him with her elbow.

Utterly lost for words, Mr Blossom cupped his hand in his face whilst shaking his head.

If that's what she thought a crow bar was, there was no way he was going to ask her to pass him the spirit level.


End file.
